When underneath the bramble-bushI quaked like river-shaken rush,
Wondering what new-wrought shape of deathShould quench my new love-quickened breath?
Or else: forget’st thou, Goldilocks,Thine own land of the wheaten shocks?
Thy mother and thy sisters dear,Thou said’st would bide thy true-love there?
Hast thou forgot? Hast thou forgot?O love, my love, I move thee not.”
* * * * *
Silent the fair Queen sat and smiledAnd heeded nought the Angel’s child,
For like an image fashioned fairStill sat the Swain with empty stare.
These words seemed spoken not, but writAs foolish tales through night-dreams flit.
Vague pictures passed before his sight,As in the first dream of the night.
* * * * *
But the Maiden opened her basket fair,And set two doves on the table there.
And soft they cooed, and sweet they billedLike man and maid with love fulfilled.
Therewith the Maiden reached a handTo a dish that on the board did stand;
And she crumbled a share of the spice-loaf brown,And the Swain upon her hand looked down;
Then unto the fowl his eyes he turned;And as in a dream his bowels yearned
For somewhat that he could not name;And into his heart a hope there came.
And still he looked on the hands of the Maid,As before the fowl the crumbs she laid.
And he murmured low, “O Goldilocks!Were we but amid the wheaten shocks!”
Then the false Queen knit her brows and laidA fair white hand by the hand of the Maid.
He turned his eyes away thereat,And closer to the Maiden sat.
* * * * *
But the queen-bird now the carle-bird fedTill all was gone of the sugared bread.
Then with wheedling voice for more he craved,And the Maid a share from the spice-loaf shaved;
And the crumbs within her hollow handShe held where the creeping doves did stand.
But Goldilocks, he looked and longed,And saw how the carle the queen-bird wronged.
For when she came to the hand to eatThe hungry queen-bird thence he beat.
Then Goldilocks the Swain spake low:“Foul fall thee, bird, thou doest now
As I to Goldilocks, my sweet,Who gave my hungry mouth to eat.”
He felt her hand as he did speak,He felt her face against his cheek.
He turned and stood in the evil hall,And swept her up in arms withal.
Then was there hubbub wild and strange,And swiftly all things there ’gan change.
The fair Queen into a troll was grown,A one-eyed, bow-backed, haggard crone.
And though the hall was yet full fair,And bright the sunshine streamed in there,
On evil shapes it fell forsooth:Swine-heads; small red eyes void of ruth;
And bare-boned bodies of vile things,And evil-feathered bat-felled wings.
And all these mopped and mowed and grinned,And sent strange noises down the wind.
There stood those twain unchanged aloneTo face the horror of the crone;
She crouched against them by the board;And cried the Maid: “Thy sword, thy sword!
Thy sword, O Goldilocks! For seeShe will not keep her oath to me.”
Out flashed the blade therewith. He sawThe foul thing sidelong toward them draw,
Holding within her hand a cupWherein some dreadful drink seethed up.
Then Goldilocks cried out and smote,And the sharp blade sheared the evil throat.
The head fell noseling to the floor;The liquor from the cup did pour,
And ran along a sparkling flameThat nigh unto their footsoles came.
Then empty straightway was the hall,Save for those twain, and she withal.
So fled away the Maid and Man,And down the stony stairway ran.
* * * * *
Fast fled they o’er the sunny grassYet but a little way did pass
Ere cried the Maid: “Now cometh forthThe snow-white ice-bear of the North;
Turn Goldilocks, and heave up sword!”Then fast he stood upon the sward,
And faced the beast, that whined and cried,And shook his head from side to side.
But round him the Swain danced and leaped,And soon the grisly head he reaped.
And then the ancient blade he sheathed,And ran unto his love sweet-breathed;
And caught her in his arms and ranFast from that house, the bane of man.
* * * * *
Yet therewithal he spake her softAnd kissed her over oft and oft,
Until from kissed and trembling mouthShe cried: “The Dragon of the South!”
He set her down and turned about,And drew the eager edges out.
And therewith scaly coil on coilReared ’gainst his face the mouth aboil:
The gaping jaw and teeth of dreadWas dark ’twixt heaven and his head.
But with no fear, no thought, no word,He thrust the thin-edged ancient sword.
And the hot blood ran from the hairy throat,And set the summer grass afloat.
Then back he turned and caught her hand,And never a minute did they stand.
But as they ran on toward the wood,He deemed her swift feet fair and good.
* * * * *
She looked back o’er her shoulder fair:“The whelming poison-pool is here;
And now availeth nought the blade:O if my cherished trees might aid!
But now my feet fail. Leave me then!And hold my memory dear of men.”
He caught her in his arms again;Of her dear side was he full fain.
Her body in his arms was dear:“Sweet art thou, though we perish here!”
Like quicksilver came on the flood:But lo, the borders of the wood!
She slid from out his arms and stayed;Round a great oak her arms she laid.
“If e’er I saved thee, lovely tree,From axe and saw, now, succour me:
Look how the venom creeps anigh,Help! lest thou see me writhe and die.”
She crouched beside the upheaved root,The bubbling venom touched her foot;
Then with a sucking gasping soundIt ebbed back o’er the blighted ground.
* * * * *
Up then she rose and took his handAnd never a moment did they stand.
“Come, love,” she cried, “the ways I know,How thick soe’er the thickets grow.
O love, I love thee! O thine heart!How mighty and how kind thou art!”
Therewith they saw the tree-dusk lit,Bright grey the great boles gleamed on it.
“O flee,” she said, “the sword is noughtAgainst the flickering fire-flaught.”
“But this availeth yet,” said he,“That Hallows All our love may see.”
He turned about and faced the glare:“O Mother, help us, kind and fair!
Now help me, true St. Nicholas,If ever truly thine I was!”
Therewith the wild-fire waned and paledAnd in the wood the light nigh failed;
And all about ’twas as the night.He said: “Now won is all our fight,
And now meseems all were but goodIf thou mightst bring us from the wood.”
She fawned upon him, face and breast;She said: “It hangs ’twixt worst and best.
And yet, O love, if thou be true,One thing alone thou hast to do.”
Sweetly he kissed her, cheek and chin:“What work thou biddest will I win.”
“O love, my love, I needs must sleep;Wilt thou my slumbering body keep,
And, toiling sorely, still bear onThe love thou seemest to have won?”
“O easy toil,” he said, “to blessMine arms with all thy loveliness.”
She smiled; “Yea, easy it may seem,But harder is it than ye deem.
For hearken! Whatso thou mayst see,Piteous as it may seem to thee,
Heed not nor hearken! bear me forth,As though nought else were aught of worth,
For all earth’s wealth that may be foundLay me not sleeping on the ground,
To help, to hinder, or to save!Or there for me thou diggest a grave.”
* * * * *
He took her body on his arm,Her slumbering head lay on his barm.
Then glad he bore her on the way,And the wood grew lighter with the day.
All still it was, till suddenlyHe heard a bitter wail near by.
Yet on he went until he heardThe cry become a shapen word:
“Help me, O help, thou passer by!Turn from the path, let me not die!
I am a woman; bound and leftTo perish; of all help bereft.”
Then died the voice out in a moan;He looked upon his love, his own,
And minding all she spake to himStrode onward through the wild-wood dim.
* * * * *
But lighter grew the woodland greenTill clear the shapes of things were seen.
And therewith wild halloos he heard,And shrieks, and cries of one afeard.
Nigher it grew and yet more nighTill burst from out a brake near by
A woman bare of breast and limb,Who turned a piteous face to him
E’en as she ran: for hard at heelFollowed a man with brandished steel,
And yelling mouth. Then the swain stoodOne moment in the glimmering wood
Trembling, ashamed: Yet now grown wiseDeemed all a snare for ears and eyes.
So onward swiftlier still he strodeAnd cast all thought on his fair load.
And yet in but a little spaceBack came the yelling shrieking chase,
And well-nigh gripped now by the man,Straight unto him the woman ran;
And underneath the gleaming steelE’en at his very feet did kneel.
She looked up; sobs were all her speech,Yet sorely did her face beseech.
While o’er her head the chaser stared,Shaking aloft the edges bared.
Doubted the swain, and a while did standAs she took his coat-lap in her hand.
Upon his hand he felt her breathHot with the dread of present death.
Sleek was her arm on his scarlet coat,The sobbing passion rose in his throat.
But e’en therewith he looked asideAnd saw the face of the sleeping bride.
Then he tore his coat from the woman’s hand,And never a moment there did stand.
But swiftly thence away he strodeAlong the dusky forest road.
And there rose behind him laughter shrill,And then was the windless wood all still,
He looked around o’er all the place,But saw no image of the chase.
And as he looked the night-mirk nowO’er all the tangled wood ’gan flow.
Then stirred the sweetling that he bore,And she slid adown from his arms once more.
Nought might he see her well-loved face;But he felt her lips in the mirky place.
“’Tis night,” she said, “and the false day’s gone,And we twain in the wild-wood all alone.
Night o’er the earth; so rest we hereUntil to-morrow’s sun is clear.
For overcome is every foeAnd home to-morrow shall we go.”
So ’neath the trees they lay, those twain,And to them the darksome night was gain.
But when the morrow’s dawn was greyThey woke and kissed whereas they lay.
And when on their feet they came to standSwain Goldilocks stretched out his hand.
And he spake: “O love, my love indeed,Where now is gone thy goodly weed?
For again thy naked feet I see,And thy sweet sleek arms so kind to me.
Through thy rent kirtle once againThy shining shoulder showeth plain.”
She blushed as red as the sun-sweet rose:“My garments gay were e’en of those
That the false Queen dight to slay my heart;And sore indeed was their fleshly smart.
Yet must I bear them, well-beloved,Until thy truth and troth was proved.
And this tattered coat is now for a signThat thou hast won me to be thine.
Now wilt thou lead along thy maidTo meet thy kindred unafraid.”
As stoops the falcon on the doveHe cast himself about her love.
He kissed her over, cheek and chin,He kissed the sweetness of her skin.
Then hand in hand they went their wayTill the wood grew light with the outer day.
At last behind them lies the wood,And before are the Upland Acres good.
On the hill’s brow awhile they stayAt midmorn of the merry day.
He sheareth a deal from his kirtle meet,To make her sandals for her feet.
He windeth a wreath of the beechen tree,Lest men her shining shoulders see.
And a wreath of woodbine sweet, to hideThe rended raiment of her side;
And a crown of poppies red as wine,Lest on her head the hot sun shine.
She kissed her love withal and smiled:“Lead forth, O love, the Woodland Child!
Most meet and right meseems it nowThat I am clad with the woodland bough.
For betwixt the oak-tree and the thornMeseemeth erewhile was I born.
And if my mother aught I knewIt was of the woodland folk she grew.
And O that thou art well at easeTo wed the daughter of the trees!”
Now Goldilocks and GoldilocksGo down amidst the wheaten shocks,
But when anigh to the town they come,Lo there is the wain a-wending home,
And many a man and maid beside,Who tossed the sickles up, and cried:
“O Goldilocks, now whither away?And what wilt thou with the woodland may?”
“O this is Goldilocks my bride,And we come adown from the wild-wood side,
And unto the Fathers’ House we wendTo dwell therein till life shall end.”
“Up then on the wain, that ye may seeFrom afar how thy mother bideth thee.
That ye may see how kith and kinAbide thee, bridal brave to win.”
So Goldilocks and GoldilocksSit high aloft on the wheaten shocks,
And fair maids sing before the wain,For all of Goldilocks are fain.
But when they came to the Fathers’ door,There stood his mother old and hoar.
Yet was her hair with grey but blent,When forth from the Upland Town he went.
There by the door his sisters stood;Full fair they were and fresh of blood;
Little they were when he went away;Now each is meet for a young man’s may.
* * * * *
“O tell me, Goldilocks, my son,What are the deeds that thou hast done?”
“I have wooed me a wife in the forest wild,And home I bring the Woodland Child.”
“A little deed to do, O son,So long a while as thou wert gone.”
“O mother, yet is the summer hereNow I bring aback my true-love dear.
And therewith an Evil Thing have I slain;Yet I come with the first-come harvest-wain.”
“O Goldilocks, my son, my son!How good is the deed that thou hast done?
But how long the time that is worn away!Lo! white is my hair that was but grey.
And lo these sisters here, thine own,How tall, how meet for men-folk grown!
Come, see thy kin in the feasting-hall,And tell me if thou knowest them all!
O son, O son, we are blithe and fain;But the autumn drought, and the winter rain,
The frost and the snow, and St. David’s wind,All these that were, time out of mind,
All these a many times have beenSince thou the Upland Town hast seen.”
* * * * *
Then never a word spake GoldilocksTill they came adown from the wheaten shocks.
And there beside his love he stoodAnd he saw her body sweet and good.
Then round her love his arms he cast:“The years are as a tale gone past.
But many the years that yet shall beOf the merry tale of thee and me.
Come, love, and look on the Fathers’ Hall,And the folk of the kindred one and all!
For now the Fathers’ House is kind,And all the ill is left behind.
And Goldilocks and GoldilocksShall dwell in the land of the Wheaten Shocks.”